Passions Ignited
by x-MJ-x
Summary: Following on from the Darcys' wedding. When two such spirited people are united, what will happen? He's the master of the intense stare, but she's the mistress of intense conversation. Passions are bound to be ignited, aren't they?
1. A Mistress for Pemberley

**Hello :-) **

**I'm currently studying English Literature at university and one of my upcoming modules is called 'Jane Austen: Then and Now' as more than a little bit of an Austenite, you can imagine my joy, so over the summer I've been looking here and there for the 'now' part of this module, hence why I stumbled across this part of the of the site. I've been writing on it for a number of years and never really thought about looking for **_**Pride and Prejudice**_** themed stories – don't know why. But since I reread the book last week (for the fifth time) and one again fell in love with Elizabeth and Darcy, I thought I'd check it out, which is why my name may start appearing on your review lists. I'm currently reading **_**Death Comes to Pemberley **_**by the wonderful P.D James and after having read some of your work, I have found myself inspired. This story is just something that won't leave me alone, so I kind of had to write it, I hope you enjoy it. **

**I'm hoping that owing to my degree I know enough about Nineteenth century prose- form and style to make this as authentic as possible but do forgive any variations you may find. **

**Now, I've mentioned university before and I start again on Monday so updates (should you want me to continue) make take some time to appear, but since it fits in with one of my modules and I'll need some escape from the stress of dissertation year, I plan to update it as much as possible. **

**My author's note is the same here as it ever is: I DO NOT own **_**Pride and Prejudice **_**its characters or plots (they belong to the very talented Jane Austen and although I wish I did own Mr Darcy, alas I do not) and all recognisable dialogues will be clearly marked in italics. **

**Enjoy! **

The ornately decorated carriage ground to a halt somewhat abruptly, its wheels having met with the resistance provided by the gravel surface of the wide, sweeping frontage of Pemberley Park. For a moment, the passengers sat unmoving, their eyes the only means of communication as they regarded each other with the same strong, penetrating stares. It was only at the slight commotion caused by the coachman, Patterson, as he dismounted and made his way to the door that the pair thought better of simply passing the night in this quietly contemplative manner.

Mr Fitzwilliam Darcy, revered master of Pemberley, was first to alight. Patterson stood quietly by, awaiting orders as was his duty as did Lessing, the stable-hand who had arrived at the first inclination that the Pemberley carriage was returned to its estate. Darcy spoke kindly to both men who offered him hearty congratulations, thanking them for their well wishes and assuring them that he would duly pass them on. Both young men appeared pleased by this and were only too happy to oblige when their master instructed them that the horses should be returned to their stables. Having received this order, the coachman and stable-hand set about the task as quietly as their working men's boots and indeed the horses, allowed them and it was as they were about to deliver the horses to the stables that their master stopped them, with his tone of quiet command.

"After you have seen the horses safely delivered, please take this night of celebration as an opportunity to return early to your own families." He told them, his voice lighter and perhaps more playful than either man could reasonably account for.

"Yes sir, thank you sir." They replied, if not in unison at least with the rehearsed air of men eager to please.

Darcy awaited the customary bow at his dismissal of his staff for the night and having received it, returned his thoughts to the second passenger in the carriage. He turned towards the door, wondering slightly at the reason he did not at present find himself in the company of his companion, but as he reached into the carriage, his hand extended in a show of gentlemanliness, he found her to be staring up at the somewhat imposing, exuberantly beautiful structure of Pemberley with an attitude akin to awe taking over every aspect of her face. He did not think this strange despite the knowledge that she had in the not-so distant past, been received at Pemberley and had experienced the majesty of its halls and gardens. Then, she had simply been Miss Elizabeth Bennet of Longbourn, a woman still fearfully prejudiced towards his nature. Of course, the truth along with his gentle nature had been revealed and now she was returned to the estate as Mrs Elizabeth Darcy and the splendours of Pemberley were hers too, splendours from which he hoped she would take delight.

Several long moments passed until suddenly the intensity of his expression seemed to awaken Elizabeth's awareness that she was indeed being observed in her somewhat girlish wonder and she lowered her chin, fixing him with an equally powerful, almost defiant stare as she tried with little success, to distract his attention from the flaming blush which crept across her cheeks.

Choosing to indulge her wishes, Darcy did not take the opportunity to observe her blush, to use this observation to humiliate her as he might have previously been wont to do. Instead, he directed the subject of his own attention towards that which had so arrested hers.

"It is beautiful, is it not?" He asked quietly, reservedly even. He appeared humbled by the grandeur of Pemberley and the expectation of the man who lived there.

"It is sir, quite beyond compare." She replied with the strength of conviction which had first caught his attention at the Meryton assembly.

"Would it bring you pleasure to become further acquainted with your new home _Mrs Darcy_?" He asked her, leaning further into the carriage and causing their fingertips to meet in one charged movement.

"Indeed it would _Mr Darcy." _She replied with a wry smile as curled her cold fingers around the comparative warmth of his.

"You are as cold as stone, my love." He remarked as he handed his wife of these seven hours from the carriage and having done as etiquette demanded, drew her hand towards his lips, instantly warmly those fingers.

"It is fortunate then, is it not, that my heart is as warm as it is could be? I am sure I should not suffer a death of cold tonight." She told him as she settled her arm in the crook his own had made for her and they made their way to the entrance of that stately home which so often since her last visit had pervaded her dreams.

They were greeted at the door by Hendricks, a veteran of Pemberley who had been in the service of this house and its family for as many years as Darcy found himself capable of remembering. In boyhood, the distinguished man-servant had served as a stable-hand but had quickly worked his way into the affections of the then new master of Pemberley, Mr Darcy's own father and his wife Lady Anne and had been promoted from post to post until he had been bestowed with the greatest of honours – becoming the present Mr Darcy's personal valet. Darcy liked the man, respected him and had often shared his confidences with him, an occurrence not uncommon between the family at Pemberley and their most trusted staff, so he was gladdened that it was Hendricks who had been stationed at the door to receive them now.

"My warmest congratulations to you sir and to your new bride."

"Thank you Hendricks. Did Miss Georgiana's journey to Miss Abbott's home commence without hindrance?" He asked, thinking of his sister who had left the celebrations at Netherfield early to begin a month long stay of leisure with her dear friend Violet Abbott.

"It did sir." Hendricks replied, knowing of the level of affection between brother and sister in this house.

"I am pleased."

"Your journey was pleasant I trust sir?"

"Quite so, although I believe Mrs Darcy laments the distance of Pemberley from Longbourn."

"On the contrary sir," Elizabeth spoke up, only remembering her father's warning about the hasty expression of her opinion in marriage at the last moment, by which time it was too late not to follow through with her defence. "I do not grieve for Longbourn, though it has been my constant home since childhood, but rather that we should be so far from Netherfield Park." She told him honestly, feeling a slight pang of longing for the confidence of her sister although she had barely had time to miss it.

"It my understanding my dear Elizabeth that Mr and Mrs Bingley do not long intend to stay at Netherfield, perhaps they will settle somewhere close at hand." Darcy tried to soothe, knowing that an increased proximity to her dearest sister would relieve her mind.

"Perhaps."

"Forgive me madam, for speaking of matters not my concern, but it is my knowledge that Pemberley always extends the warmest welcome to friends of the master, you will not, I am confident, be refused the society of your relatives or acquaintances and the estate and house will not be a lonely place. I think you will find yourself at the excess of happiness within its walls."

"That is my wish for you too." Darcy told her, the concern in his voice clear as he considered the possibility that his dear Elizabeth may find herself unhappy in this house, with him.

Elizabeth reached out to him, hardly conscious of their audience and laid a soft hand upon his cheek, which she stroked with her fingertip. "I am already at the excesses of happiness here my love, I have never yet known such hedonism." She assured him.

"I am glad." Her husband replied with a smile which in her company, until a few short weeks ago, had been so rare on his usually severe face.

"As I am." She returned his smile and waited as he turned back towards the valet.

"Hendricks although I am sure we will not require attendance with any immediacy, would you inform Mrs Reynolds and any staff not yet retired that the master and mistress of Pemberley are returned home?"

"With very great pleasure sir, madam." Hendricks replied with a slightly exaggerated bow before he was gone.

When they were quite alone, Mr Darcy turned to his new wife, tipping her chin ever so slightly towards him. "So Mrs Darcy, once again we have a mistress for Pemberley, what have you to say to that?" He asked, his tone teasing.

"I have only to say Mr Darcy that a mistress is nothing without her master, sir." She replied, wishing to initiate that repartee they could fall into so easily if the occasion called for it. "What have _you_ to say to that?" She repeated his question to him.

"Only that if that is true, then it is very fortunate that we find ourselves here together." He told her and although they shared nothing more than a knowing look, he felt stirrings inside of him he had feared were long dead...

**Well there's the first chapter, I hope you enjoyed it. As I said it's something which has been playing on my mind and I wanted to see if I could achieve the standard I've seen on here, so do let me know what you think of it thus far. **

**I guess I just have Darcy on the brain and I wanted to explore what their first night as man and wife would be like, so this is my interpretation. **

**Please excuse any minor editorial mistakes, they are my own and I have tried to get rid of them all. **

**If you enjoyed this and want more, let me know. Reviews and tweets ( sassybritchelle) are much appreciated. **

**Thank you for reading, it means a lot to me. **

**Love, **

_**X~Michelle~X**_


	2. An Angel in the House

**Hello lovely people, : -) **

**Here's the second chapter of my little foray into the world of the lovely Miss Austen, thank you so much to all my reviewers and a special thanks to my guest reviewers whom I can't thank with a personal message, I appreciate the support of all my readers so much.**

**My author's note remains the same as ever: I DO NOT own **_**Pride and Prejudice, **_**its characters or plots and all recognisable dialogues will be clearly marked in italics. Oh and the title of this chapter is taken from the poem of the same name by Coventry Patmore, so credit where it's due.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

They had taken a light meal in the family dining room, it having been hours since the wedding breakfast at Netherfield Park had been served and now they sat in amiable silence, each contemplating their recent marriage. Mr Darcy was, within the society he kept outside of the walls of Pemberley, acknowledged to be a man of few words but in the company of Elizabeth, he had never experienced such a shortage of conversation. She seemed reserved, more so than he had ever seen her in his company and he feared the reason for this may be concerned with the impending expectation of this wedding night. As was gentlemanly, he would not mention it yet but he felt that it was his duty to make her feel at her ease, so he would, he resolved, make idle conversation until such time as he could determine how best to proceed without proving himself to be among the most presumptuous of his sex.

"Mrs Bingley was happy when you saw her before we departed?" He asked, knowing that Elizabeth could converse about her dear Jane endlessly.

"Exceedingly." She murmured. "I believe our happiness with our husbands is equal sir."

"I am pleased and your family? They were quite satisfied with the celebrations?"

"I believe that Kitty met a hundred suitors she intends to pursue, but tell me Mr Darcy, are you thus tired with your new wife so quickly that you must discuss her family, whom it is known you find most repellent?" She asked the question with her customarily quick tongue and she did not regret it, but rather continued to speak in spite of the inadequate time he had been afforded to make his reply. "For if that is the truth, then she is not doing her duty as the wife of a distinguished gentleman." She added, holding his gaze, tempting into the verbal battle she had begun.

"I find 'repellent' to be a term of such strong expression that it wrongs my good opinion of my wife's family."

"I have done you some injustice, husband?"

"You have madam. I believe I explained on an occasion previous that _my good opinion, once lost, is lost forever. _I think that in the months since those words left my proud mouth, I have had reason enough to recant them. Your family have quite redeemed themselves in my eyes, thus earning the respect they deserve of your husband."

Elizabeth appeared surprised, but she could not help allowing herself a small but victorious smile on behalf of her relations. "Does this recantation apply to _all _members of your wife's family, I wonder?" She asked after a moment.

He paused, an image of Mrs Bennet entering his mind quite of its own volition. For lack of a better description, the phrase '_in want of propriety _' was the expression which formed his opinion of his mother in-law's behaviour both publically and perhaps more mortifyingly, privately. "_Almost _all." He told her quietly and he was grateful that when he regarded her, she wore only a smile and not an expression of consternation.

"So it is only my mother for whom your pride suffers?" She guessed correctly.

"I am sure I should become accustomed to her character if we should be frequently in her company." He replied, willing to endure his mother in-law's presence if it would make his wife happy.

"I would not burden you with such discomfort by requesting that we should spend frequent visits in the company of my mother, although I do so wish you would offer my dear father the chance to prove himself the amiable and respectable gentleman I know him to be."

"I will be very glad to know more of your father and if it would ease your mind and guarantee your contentment, I am sure that visits to Longbourn and its mistress should bring me nothing but the joy of your happiness." He assured her.

"I think I am lucky to have such a gentleman as you for a husband if even _my_ mother can be said to bring you joy." She smiled.

"Then I am fortunate indeed in having the ability to tell the world, or our common acquaintances at least, that mine is a wife most deserving of a gentleman such as the master of Pemberley." He told her, raising her hand to his lips once more and bestowing a chaste kiss to her left wrist. It was intimate, more so than anything he had said or done in her company thus far and he felt a thrill course through his rapidly awakening body to know that he could now lavish such tenderness upon her. "You must also know that I am not tired of you, nor can I imagine myself becoming so. It is only because I wish to put you at your ease that I raise a subject I know to be dear to your heart now. I do not want you to think that I am unfeeling or unaware of your nervousness. It is natural, you are a new bride, but be assured my love, you are quite safe with me." He told her, expressing himself emotionally in order to allow her to rest her mind.

"I have never yet had reason to doubt that in your company, there shall I also find my eternal safety and happiness, husband." She told him, this time taking her turn to press a kiss to his riding-roughened hand.

* * *

For several minutes after this assurance, they were silent again and this state of quiet amiability was broken only by her laughter, light and musical as it was.

"You are amused my love?" He asked, not able to contain the smile which pulled at his usually stern mouth, her joy was destined to be his since their union.

"I was just thinking Mr Darcy that perhaps we would do better to be dancing, by your assertion after all, conversation is an unnecessary contrivance in that particular employment." She replied with mirth, her eyes flashing with menace as she left her seat and pulled her husband to his feet, gripping both his hands.

"You are a wonderment to me my dear Elizabeth and at the present moment I cannot imagine ever knowing boredom again, but you will remember I am sure, that I have never been the keenest partner at any assembly we have had the pleasure to have been attendance at together thus far. Besides, I hear no melody from which I can take instruction regarding the steps I should lead you in." He teased, allowing his hands to trace the delicacy of her wrists.

"Alas, it is a great shame Miss Georgiana is not at home, I have yet to meet a more accomplished player, I am sure she would recreate for us to the highest order of perfection, the latest melody popular at the most fashionable balls on her exquisite pianoforte. I should have very much liked to have persuaded my reluctant husband to lead me in a wedding night waltz of celebration, but no matter. Perhaps I will take a turn about the room instead, I believe, if I am not very much mistaken, you will find my _figure appears to the greatest advantage _in the light of the fire here, do you not agree?" She asked, harking back to the moment at which she had first reasonably had occasion to suspect the slightest recognition of her female form by the man she now called her husband.

"You are most correct my dear, your figure is very advantageously positioned for the admiration of your poor husband." He told her, his voice sounding minutely changed to her, it seemed darker somehow, thickened by emotions and dare she think it, she wondered, as she regarded him from across the room,_ passion_?

"Pray tell me, why does my affluent husband speak of himself as a poor man?"

"He speaks of himself in such a way because he finds himself too far distanced from the object of his affections at the present moment to afford himself the pleasure of worshipping said figure at closer proximity." He told her, his voice and anatomical maleness straining at the restraint he found himself forced to exercise.

"Well sir," She began to reply, walking with slow, considered and deliberate steps towards him, ever careful to maintain contact with his alluring and _hungry_ eyes. "I am most humbly sorry to have aggrieved my husband in such a way. I would not wish you displeasure for all the world." She told him, her voice quiet and playful.

"You are quite forgiven Mrs Darcy." He told her as she gripped his right arm at the crook it had necessarily made in his attempt to pull her closer. They regarded each other with expectant eyes for a moment and were both silently gratified when he leaned his head closer to hers and their foreheads became pressed together.

"My wife." He muttered, seemingly to himself as he came to terms with the notion that he had in fact married Elizabeth Bennet of Longbourn, his seemingly sworn enemy since his arrival Meryton some months previous.

He bent his head more, leaving her forehead in search of her lips, those lips which to him had at once been a great weapon against him and the source of his blossoming love for her. He would kiss her, it was his greatest desire at that moment, but as his lips sought hers, found them and attempted to make contact with them, he felt her pull away from him and before he could make any protest, she was gone.

* * *

Mr Fitzwilliam Darcy was known both on the Pemberley estate and its surrounding villages and indeed in town as a man for whom the burden of desire had never been an affliction from which he had suffered. This was, in part, the reason why his acquaintances and those gossips around them, had established an inaccurate understanding of his pride. It was true, although his company consisted of many fine ladies, Miss Caroline Bingley being but one example, Darcy had never expressed preference for one of them, nor had he ever been so fanciful as to form romantic attachments to any such lady which given his disposition, he could never be expected to keep. Romance itself seemed an almost foreign concept to the life-hardened heart of the master of Pemberley and yet, he was also known to be a man whose every desire was unquestionably fulfilled. Proof of this could be found in his despicable attempt to meddle in the affairs of the hearts of both his dear friend Mr Bingley and Mrs Bingley, formerly the eldest Miss Bennet of Longbourn. Indeed in all his affairs concerning the Bennet family, he had found his desires met and granted: Wickham's marriage to Miss Lydia Bennet which had thus saved her and all the family's reputation from complete social ruination, the reunion of the eldest Miss Bennet with her dearest love Bingley after the realisation of his own fault and his own desire to marry Miss Elizabeth. In all these endeavours, his desires had been satisfied and he had this day married his love, but now when his greatest desire was to kiss her, to love her, she had denied him. It was a feeling entirely new to him and he knew that had any other woman thus refused him, he would have never found it within his heart to forgive her, but in the case of Mrs Darcy, he found himself governed by nothing more than a heightened sense of all things carnal.

Having taken the immediacy of her absence to recover himself, he made his way to the door, hearing the sound of her slippers against the marbled floors close at hand. He was glad that he had been so driven towards the door, for if he had not, he would never have witnessed the sight before his eyes now. There she stood in the grand entrance of Pemberley surrounded by the portraits of his ancestors, spinning slowly in a circle as if to take in everything this great house had to offer her. Still in her wedding gown, owing to the fact that he had insisted upon it, she appeared to him as an angel gracing Pemberley with her presence. For several long minutes, in which she wandered from portrait to portrait, she remained completely unaware of his voyeurism and he was glad of that, she was never more natural than when completely unguarded and this was when he could enjoy her the most.

After several moments more, she stopped, standing quite still in the middle of the huge entranceway as if some spirit had alerted her to her audience and although he tried to shrink back into the shadows, he knew she saw him and they shared another of their increasingly common intense stares. She continued to hold his gaze as she cast a long look back at him, over her shoulder, before again she somewhat indignantly turned away from him once more. She walked away again, retreating further into the house and although he had the physicality to stop her, to command her to oblige him, as had often been the case when he found himself in her company, he could only watch as_ she_ commanded him...

* * *

Elizabeth vaguely recalled the layout of this house from her previous visit and so found herself easily able to navigate the less private, lower level of the house. She passed the gallery wherein she remembered being arrested by the likeness of her husband's sculpture to his living self, she moved on past the formal reception room Mrs Reynolds had shown them into when first they had arrived and she found herself imagining the visitors she would receive there and the kind of welcome she would extend them as Mrs Darcy. The last room she encountered before reaching the place of her intention was the ballroom and again, her imagination allowed her the indulgence of a fantasy ball given by Mr and Mrs Darcy of Pemberley. Yes, her life as mistress of this house would be more than comfortable and far more luxurious than any single girl of her age and limited connection had reason to expect from fate and yet here she was.

Her hand closed around the door handle and she did not experience any resistance as she attempted to open it and slipped inside. Here in this room, she found her first taste of the peace of mind she had feigned before her husband. Safely ensconced on both sides by the infinite number of volumes, she felt her nerves quell. This was a domain in which she had control. As a woman with limited exposure to formal education, she had always delighted in the library at Longbourn and upon her last visit to Pemberley it had been the one place in which she had felt quite at home. She approached the shelves with caution, still feeling largely like a guest here and hardly reconciling herself to the knowledge that all this – the reception room, the ball room and indeed the library which she envisaged becoming most beloved, were indeed hers. Never had she been in possession of even a small amount of the wealth she could see in the luxurious furniture, the sweeping fireplace, the gilded tomes of numerous volume and yet now, wealth was hers to delight in and yet, Mrs Darcy still felt herself more like prejudiced Miss Lizzy of Longbourn that mistress of Pemberley and so it hardly surprised her that once it had been established that the books here were organised in recognition of the authors' surnames, she located the volume that reminded her of home.

* * *

The first thing he noticed as he entered the library was that she had removed her bridal veil, this was something which hardly seemed significant, but his body had other notions. Soon, he found himself consumed by imagining the moment when he would be permitted to divest her of all her bridal attire, he tried to shake his thoughts from this dangerous path and turned his attention towards her. He watched her from the doorway, sitting in one of the high-backed chairs with a tome, using the room as he had intended it to be used by her. She looked at peace, in comfort and he was almost reluctant to disturb her – even if this thought might have seemed strange on his wedding night- but he found his desire for her far too heightened to be anywhere but in her company tonight.

"I have found you, at last." He spoke as he approached her from behind.

"I was not hiding." She told him as she looked up from her volume, regarding him with a steady and challenging gaze.

"I did not say that you were, only that I had found you."

"You saw," she continued, "did you not, the direction in which I meant to go?"

"I did. I thought that you might appreciate a moment's privacy."

"I do not wish to be apart from you. It is after all our wedding night. I was simply compelled to acquaint myself with what I must now call my own." She told him, not explaining that she had felt overwhelmed by the strength of her feelings towards him.

"I also wish to acquaint myself with what is now mine ." He told her, his voice again holding that darkness she found most intriguing.

"What can be new to _you_, here in your home?" She asked, discarding the volume onto the table at her elbow.

"You are." He replied, pausing a moment before continuing "my Lizzy." She started at the term of endearment having never heard him speak it before. Regardless, she knew she took pleasure from hearing him name her so intimately.

"Tell me, are you yet well enough acquainted with me?" She asked, her eyes sparkling again as she drew him into a battle of her own conditions.

"Regrettably, I am not." He told her, a feeling of such magnetism arresting him at that moment that he hardly knew how he was still standing so distanced from her.

"How should you know more of me Mr Darcy?" She asked, her old fears returning as it occurred to her _precisely_ how he might know her better.

"My affectionates suffer to call me Fitzwilliam." He told her, choosing not to respond to her question but rather to her insistence at the formality of calling him only 'Mr Darcy' or 'husband'.

"Why do they suffer?" She asked mildly confused by his choice of expression as she watched him take the seat opposite her.

"Perhaps, on reflection, it is not them who suffer, but rather I."

"Then why do you suffer, my love?"

"To me," he started, looking uncomfortable "my given name _Fitzwilliam _has been a source of constant ridicule. I think I may reasonably attribute blame for this to our brother in-law." He was careful not to mention George Wickham's name lest he reveal to his wife an emotion he was not pleased to harbour for any man, no matter how wronged he had been.

"I would ask you the question the great playwright Shakespeare would , I think, ask here: _'What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet.'" _She quoted the playwright and he could not conceal the smile he now showed her.

"You do not think me ridiculous for my vanity?"

"Vanity?" Elizabeth asked, unsure of how such a man as Mr Darcy might ever show himself to be vain in regard to anything other than the society he chose to keep.

"For being thus concerned with a name."

"I do not." She assured him, taking his hand. "Of all the people in my acquaintance, I have never met a man who is greater than one who bears the name Fitzwilliam." She told him.

"Tell me Lizzy," there was _that_ strangely intimate endearment again which made her blush when he spoke it "are there many Fitzwilliams who have the honour of your society?" He asked, sounding jealous.

She shook her head and laughed before replying. "Excepting your cousin the Colonel, I claim to have the acquaintance of only one and he is..." she paused before finishing her thought "he is the very _greatest _of men." She told him, kissing his hand again.

There was suitable pause in which the gravity of her sincerity was felt before she spoke again. "So tell me husband, what must your wife _suffer_ to call you?"

"Since you defended it so well, I will allow you to call me by my given name, so long as I may hear it on your lips again, to make certain that it is tolerable to me." He told her.

She obliged him almost at once. "That would bring me great joy, _Fitzwilliam." _She murmured, almost erotically and he felt his body shudder at this intimacy. "Although I may also have a desire to call you Fitz. What say you to that?" She teased with a laugh, again distancing herself from the sincerity she had meant to express.

"I say this. If you should ever decide that such a name is necessary, I would not speak to you again." He told her firmly, although she could hear the warmth of his tone.

"I should have no fun at all, if you would not engage me in conversation Fitzwilliam." She told him, demonstrating her obedience as his wife.

"Precisely." He agreed.

"_Must_ I suffer to refer to you so intimately?"

"I hope you will not." He replied. "Indeed my wish is quite to the contrary, I ardently hope that the intimacy of my company brings you pleasure."

"I am sure that it shall." She assured him, her own desire for him increasing every second.

"I would greatly like to kiss you Lizzy, in recognition of our mutual pleasure." He told her after they had resumed their amiable silence once more.

"I would like that very much, Fitzwilliam." She smiled, watching as he seemed to slide from the chair and came to be kneeling in front of her.

* * *

She drew in a breath, which she did not realise she was holding. Kissing her husband was something entirely new to her. Since they had not had the indulgence of a lengthy courtship from proposal to marriage, simply being at ease in his company was an experience strange enough, but having his face so close to hers and being without chaperone was something both thrilling and frightening in dual measure. He allowed his fingers to settle on her face for a few moments tracing the height of her cheekbone before he drew her heads towards his and finally, for the first time since they had been pronounced man and wife, he kissed her.

Although she was almost wholly inexperienced in the art of giving the perfect kiss, aside from the few they had shared, she found that her body seemed to know what she ought to do without much employment of her mind. She felt herself being guided by him as his lips caressed hers and after a while, he tipped her head back a little, allowing his tongue to part her willing lips and slip inside of her mouth. The kiss was both desperately urgent and excruciatingly tender and just at the moment when she thought she would die if he silently requested anything more from her, he pulled back, ending the kiss. Instead of feeling relief now that he demanded nothing of her, she felt a longing the like of which she had never known. As she looked into his piercing blue eyes, she was a infinitely pleased to see the same pain in his face, she was not in need alone.

"My Lizzy, my dearest love." He sighed contentedly as they remained motionless, regarding each other intensely...

* * *

**Well, there it is, I hope you enjoyed it, please do let me know. I know some of you were interested to see the collision of the two fierce spirits I hope I have begun to do that here for you, there is more to come in the next chapter (which I will start immediately) I promise. **

**I hope that it remains authentic and I trust that you will not be afraid to let me know if you feel like something I am doing needs adjusting. **

**Please forgive any minor editorial mistakes, they are my own and I have tried to remove them all. **

**Thanks for reading, **

**Love, **

_**X~Michelle~X**_


	3. A Game of Wits

**Hello lovely people :-) **

**I want to thank all of you for your support and reviews on this one so far, I am astounded if I'm honest to know that it's getting so much support from this community, it means so much :-). **

**So maybe this seems like the longest night in history but I'm working on building up that tension some of you have been commenting on. Since this is M however, you know they'll get there in the end ;-). **

**My author's note is the same as ever: I DO NOT own **_**Pride and Prejudice, **_**its characters or plots and all recognisable dialogues will be clearly marked in italics. **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Both master and mistress of Pemberley were most dramatically affected by the passion which had in short moments previous, passed between them. Darcy remained on his haunches in front of her and in recognition of the changed status of their acquaintance, he had been so bold as to place a hand upon her knee in a motion designed not only to steady himself, but to forge a more intimate connection with his new wife.

"Your kisses dearest Lizzy" he started, finding his voice at last "have almost the power to unman me; I fear I am quite overcome by emotions unbecoming of a gentleman." He murmured, quite assured enough in his masculinity to divulge such sensitivity to her despite what he knew of her previous reactions to his emotions.

Elizabeth did not immediately reply. It would have been easy to be sure, to have agreed with him, to confirm that indeed Elizabeth Darcy had power enough in her kisses to unman the master of Pemberley, but as she regarded him with her playful eyes, she saw something quite other to his expressed sentiments burning strongly in his eyes. It was an expression she had had occasion to notice severally this night and far from suggesting a preference to excessive sensibility in her husband, it made him seem to her infinitely more commanding. "You should never be afeard of emotion Fitzwilliam, but I do believe you are quite wrong. Contrary to your good opinion, I am sure that your enjoyment of intimacy with your wife proves you among the most masculine and powerful of your sex." She told him, her eyes flashing with light and mischief.

"I am sure the emotions you inspire in me cause me pleasure the like of which I never have never yet experienced." He replied, making his way back to the chair opposite her in spite of the pain his imposed separation from her caused him.

Elizabeth's attention was arrested by this last remark and contrary to feelings of curiosity, she found herself consumed by feelings of such jealous nature she was unused to experiencing. "Have you experienced many pleasures, Fitzwilliam?" She asked, her tone strained with the rehearsal of indifference.

"I would not say that my love." He answered, finding her jealousy endearing.

"But you have experience to which you may compare my shortcomings as your wife?"

"I do not foresee the existence of any shortcomings on the part of my wife, neither can I pretend that in my youth you would not have found me quite changed from the Fitzwilliam Darcy who now manages Pemberley. I admit freely that I have known the touch of a woman." He told her, his head lowering in proportion to the shame he now felt.

"Then... There are many women about the Pemberley estate who have known the passions of its master? Women like Miss Caroline Bingley perhaps?" She asked, flying from her chair in anger and taking up the volume previously discarded.

* * *

"Miss Bingley?" He asked, repeating the name of the woman who had been the subject of many conversations during their short courtship. "I cannot reasonably imagine why you would not take me at my word concerning that lady. I have told you Lizzy and I tell you again now, Miss Bingley is as a sister to me and I can confidently add, hardly a favourite sister." He told her, his voice authoritative.

"I do not believe you." She told him emotionally.

"You must." He replied, leaving little room for alternative consideration.

"I am afraid sir, I cannot, you have given me little compelling evidence in support of your honesty." She told him, clutching her volume.

"I was not lead to believe that a marriage to you would see me on trial for a crime I have not committed." He sighed, his voice somewhat cold.

"Well sir, I was not expecting to be ensnared and held at Pemberley by your pretences at politeness." She retorted.

"I have never pretended politeness to you madam. I have it on your authority that until very recently you thought me the very opposite and I should hope my love that you will never feel held like a prison inside these walls. Now, won't you come and sit by the fire with me? We have much I think, to discuss." He told her, his own irritation dying into softness as he noticed her distress.

"I will not sir."

"You will not sit beside your husband as he accounts for himself?"

"I will not sir, but could you not predict my answer? This after all, is my truest self, a person whose ugliness I have never hidden." She told him defiantly.

"There is nothing ugly in your person Elizabeth." He assured her "and I would bare myself to you, if you would only drop that volume and join me by the warmth of the fire. What is it you cleave to so desperately?"

"A vestige of the life I had not thought I would be sorry to leave." She told him, offering him no further description and finding herself most surprised when moments later, he was upon her, taking the book from her grasp.

"_Fordyce's Sermons? _Why ever would you read this now? There is no need of this prescriptive morality between a husband and wife."

"On this point, I hope you will forgive me the divergence of our opinions sir, for I cannot agree."

"Why should I forgive it? I rejoice in it. Although, I cannot tell whether this is truly the opinion of Mrs Darcy. I had hoped that she might feel at a more equal advantage with her husband. You will not, I think, find the words 'egalitarian marriage' amidst the pages of that book madam, I wish you however to know their meaning." He told her, reaching out for her wrist, which she quickly pulled from his hand.

"I am well aware of their meaning sir and it is not the opinion Mrs Darcy sir. I imagine she is a woman who submits to her husband. The opinion so lately expressed is that of Miss Lizzy Bennet. I encourage you to know her, to remember her, for Mrs Darcy lives in her shadow; it can be no other way for I cannot forsake my identity. Tell me husband, do you now have reason to regret your marriage to the wildest of the Bennet five? Would not conservative Mary have suited the role of Mr Darcy's wife far better?"

"She would not madam." He told her immediately, roughly taking her chin in his hand and forcing her to look at him. "I am very glad to have married Miss Lizzy, I am in ecstasy to find her alive and well. I would want it no other way." He growled, stretching her pretty neck towards him with the anchor of his powerful hand and pushing his lips most forcibly onto hers.

* * *

She allowed his kiss for two reasons; the first was that she was regrettably physically weaker than him and thus unable to brutishly force him to desist and the second was that since that first awakening within her by his previous kiss, she had wanted nothing more than this renewed intimacy. When however she felt the most animal reaction of his masculinity press against her, she pushed him roughly away.

"You would steal kisses from your poor, helpless wife?" She seemed shocked by his passion.

"It is, I hope, impossible for me to steal something which my wife would take pleasure from giving me freely."

"What of your wife's anger? How should you know it would always give her pleasure to kiss you?"

"I cannot be certain, but she did not stop me. I believe myself to be forgiven in her eyes."

"On her authority sir, you are not."

"I am not?"

"No sir, how do you respond to that?" She asked, pushing him away further still, her chest heaving.

"I would ask how I might repent my sins? Would not a discussion of them ease Mrs Darcy's mind? Perhaps I will ask Hendricks to make ready the card table so that we might play at whist as we talk."

" I am sure I will never entertain your discussion if you would forcibly subject me to a game of cards. Have we not spent enough time in each other's company for you to confidently know that I abhor that employment?"

He laughed before replying "How then, do you suggest we proceed?"

She ignored his question, choosing instead to ask her own. "Why do you entertain my whim? Why not simply tell me that I am being too sensible? Why have you not forced upon me your desires, thus consummating this marriage?"

"Oh my Lizzy." He laughed, "Do you think that is really how it is between a man and a woman?"

"I am quite sure I do not know. Why then Fitzwilliam, do you not tell me through the arts of conversation, how it was between you and the lady whose touch you derived pleasure from?"

"I shall only regale you with the sorry tale if you will join me there by the fire." He told her, pointing to the animal skin which adorned the polished wood of the floor.

"I shall only join you there if I am convinced by your story." She challenged him, drawing him into a stale-mate.

"Then once again Lizzy, I find myself defeated by your wit." He replied with a wry smile before he proceeded to regale her with the tale of misguided youth.

* * *

As he spoke, Elizabeth found herself more endeared to this flawed version of the man she loved and had married. She listened with intent as he spoke of his youth and the visits to foreign climes he had taken with Lady Anne, who had been a great favourite of the Italian aristocracy, in particular the Contessa Isabella Don Antonius of the Venetian court. Young Fitzwilliam had accompanied his darling mother on many a visit during the years of his early boyhood and as he had become a man, he had been asked to visit the Contessa quite alone. Driven then by entirely different motivations to those of Pemberley's master, the young Darcy had accepted the invitations in the view that an association with the court of Venice would advance his status and guarantee his fame. At first those visits, the Contessa whose family had some investment in English heritage, had requested the young man to read to her – the great poets and the novels of the early part of the century which had such interesting perspectives on foreign association.

Darcy had been flattered to oblige and had most willing ,until one night, after he had finished his reading and retired to bed, the Contessa had visited upon him and told him of her unhappy marriage and the loneliness she felt since her husband had been most cruelly taken before she had made enough of a name for herself among the fashionable ladies at court. It was loneliness, she had told him, which was akin to death and she believed, she had so much more life left within her. As a young man flattered by the attentions of a distinguished lady such as the Contessa, he had been easily seduced and he had come to know the touch of a woman, he had come to know desire and lust and release and for the longest time, it had been a hedonism he had never wanted to lose. Until the Contessa had been robbed from him by the Miasma of a Venetian plague and he had been forced to return to England as a young man without parents and instead with the responsibility of an estate and its young mistress to assume. Of course, after the Contessa and the manipulation and heart break he had experienced, he had allowed himself to love no other female but his child-sister until such time as the wild and passionate Miss Lizzy had been thrown into his path like the reawakening his mind and body had craved, a person with whom to have a battle of words, a game of wits. Never had he expected to love after the Contessa's cruel seduction, always, had he promised himself that he would abstain from the pleasures which could be derived from the touch of a woman, until now, until his wife and the impossibility of his ever feeling content without having her. He was sorry to be sure, that he had never divulged this information to her, but his embarrassment had been great and he had desired to keep her from seeing his old vanities, from thinking him the most contradictory of men now.

His regalement ended almost as abruptly as it had started and he was more than a little pleased to find the darling of his heart sitting beside him by the fire as he woke from the reverie created by the woven memories of his past.

* * *

"I am sorry that I have caused you pain at the mention of this my love." Elizabeth told him quietly after a moment.

"You could not cause me pain Lizzy."

"Except to deny your proposal a second time." She replied playfully, thinking of the burden she must have placed upon his already heavy heart with her girlish refusal.

"Except in that yes, I am thankful that I never had to know such a pain." He smiled, a small thrill coursing through his already tense body when she decided to place her head against his shoulder.

"Is that why we do not follow Mr and Mrs Bingley to Venice on Friday?" She asked.

"It is one of the reasons, yes. I find that the thought of Italy always causes me to recall the foolishness of my youth and it is my opinion that one should never dwell on one's foolishness." He told her.

" A very good opinion. Indeed husband, I share it. If I had dwelt on the folly of my careless opinion of you, I should find myself embarrassed forever. This is a good reason to abstain from visiting Italy. What pray, are the others?"

"Firstly, since Georgiana indulges in a stay-of-leisure at Mr and Mrs Abbott's I thought we might indulge in the joys of Pemberley alone, I would greatly like to show you all the wonders of this estate. It is quite the loveliest place to live in Derbyshire." He told her with the attitude of a man who had inhabited all of England and therefore had the authority to make this suggestion. She was quite sure he had not in fact lived in every county of England, but she found that she was inclined to believe him.

"I would indeed enjoy the opportunity to experience the splendour of Pemberley with one who loves it as dearly as you, my love. Are there yet more reasons for our staying in Derbyshire?"

"Just one more and you might think me at the height of your ridicule once you know it, but I shall tell you in spite of this probable consequence. Venice is a place of spectatorship, the day when its inhabitants do not find something or someone to turn their eyes upon shall surely be the day when the four horsemen have ridden, leaving nothing but emptiness behind them. Whilst I am eager to show you off to those in our society and whilst I believe I have much to boast of in marrying you, I know that you are unused to holding society with people for whom you would be the spectacle. It is my wish to protect you as much as possible from the scrutiny of those who do not understand you." He told her and she immediately felt a rush of love for him akin to no other she had experienced.

"Well I should very much enjoy having Mr Fitzwilliam Darcy entirely to myself." She smiled, kissing his cheek from her position of rest.

"You would not have preferred the expected wedding journey?"

"I would not. I am at the height of happiness here, with you."

"Then I am glad because I can think of no greater pleasure than having Mrs Elizabeth Darcy completely to myself." He replied, stooping his head and pressing a kiss to her soft lips.

"Tell me... the man and woman in your story, is that what I can expect from _our _intimacy, Fitzwilliam?" She asked, nervously tracing the fine needlework on the skirt of her gown.

"No my Lizzy, no my love, that is how it was between a foolish man and a manipulative Contessa."

"How poorly you were used Fitzwilliam. How terrible that seduction must have been."

"Manipulation is terrible my love, seduction does not have to be."

"It does not?" She asked, with wide, surprised eyes.

"It does not. I think it is often a great source of pleasure." He replied with a smile.

"Do you intend to show me such pleasurable seduction?" She asked, the words sounding almost breathless with anticipation.

"I do." He replied, angling her body against his in such a way which provided the perfect opportunity to kiss her...

* * *

**So... there it is, I hope you like what I did with chapter I wanted it to be a real battle between them with the forgiveness and softness there at the end, whilst still keeping it quite flirty. I hope I'm still doing the style justice. Do let me know what you think, you are the motivation for my continuation. **

**Evidently, I also took some liberties with Mr Darcy's background, I hope most ardently that I have not made him appear too Rakish, but rather shown him to have undergone a change in opinion, that his experience with the Contessa shaped the man he was when Elizabeth met him and I hope this goes some way to explainaning why his openess to love may have been so limited to mere _tolerance _;-)**

**I promise the next chapter, will be the last 'anticipatory' chapter before the wedding night truly commences, but I will warn you now, the next one could potentially be quite sexy too. ;-) **

**I'm off to work on the chapter now, please do excuse any minor editorial issues, I have tried my best to get rid of them all. **

**Thanks for reading. **

**Love, **

_**X~Michelle~X**_


	4. A Woman of Ceremony

**Hello lovely people! **

**Well first off, I must thank you all most profusely for the astonishing response to the first three chapters of this. It started out as a small folly but now I find myself actually quite proud of it, so thanks for all your kind words of encouragement. I know that some of you had grievances, this will always happen which such beloved characters, but I appreciate your thoughts. Secondly, I must apologise for my poor ability to update this in more than a month, as you'll know from reading the first chapter I'm studying a degree and am in my last year so that pretty much is my poor-woman's excuse for abandoning this. Thanks to those of you who have asked me if this is staying alive, it means a lot to me. **

**I know many of you are anxious for them to actually reach the bedroom (me too!) but please allow me just one more chapter to explore their relationship as it begins to bloom, I promise reward will be given in the form of further intimacy. **

**My author's note is the same as ever: I DO NOT own **_**Pride and Prejudice **_**its plots or characters (except maybe in my dreams) and all recognisable dialogue will e clearly marked in italics. **

**Thanks for staying with me on this one, do enjoy!**

* * *

If she was shocked by the surprising lack of tenderness in his next kiss, she masked it well in the return of it. Perhaps she was guilty of being girlish, but as was her wont, she could not hide her emotions, even from him. Her nerves rose in her throat and were advantageously hidden in the kiss she shared but she could not imagine being out of this embrace. Their bodies were pressed closely together and yet she felt his urgency for something more, it was in every sinew of his torso as he held her, but more than that, as she allowed her eyes to flick open, she noticed it in his tormented eyes.

"Do not suffer Fitzwilliam," she murmured "on account of me. Take from me what it is you need. I give it to you willingly," she told him.

He drew back a little then, taken by surprise perhaps at her open sacrifice of her nerves. "Tell me Lizzy, what is it that you think I need from you?"

She paused, solemnly considering this. "Assurance," she whispered and, staring into his eyes, she wondered if she had said something entirely inappropriate.

"Assurance?" He laughed, regarding her with smiling eyes.

"You would laugh at me Fitzwilliam?" She was offended, he regretted that.

"Ssh now, be at ease my Lizzy, I laugh only because I cannot discern your meaning," he replied.

After a moment she seemed to decide that he spoke the truth "I meant only that Pemberley is a place of great importance to you, a place which holds your ancestry, surely on this night what you need of me is what all men need of women – my female ability to bear children," she clarified.

He laughed at her then, as he had on several occasions previous and he found himself unable to alter his response even as he became aware that her attitude towards him was quite changed. "Oh Lizzy, how you amuse me, even if such amusement occurs quite accidentally," he told her with mirth.

"My consideration of Pemberley's future is a source of your amusement?"

"It is not. I think that consideration most admirable and indeed I cannot pretend that I have not thought of it. What amuses me is that you imagine I expect you to be carrying an heir for Pemberley by the end of this night."

"You do not?"

"I do not. My need for an heir comes second to other needs tonight."

"If I must fulfil other needs for my husband then I must know what these are," she pressed, nervously wondering what he expected of her.

He paused, the intensity of his stare causing her to divert her eyes. "I need your love Lizzy; I need to feel your touch. I need to know your body," he muttered, his voice low, guttural.

"Then I say again, take of me what you need. You must be assured that you have my love and can you not feel my touch? I do not know how I can cause you to know my body better, but I am willing to be a student to your experience Fitzwilliam."

He was silent; his eyes boring into hers as he slowly lowered her against the animal skin his father had acquired on a long ago hunting trip. "Then surrender yourself to me," he growled.

"I am yours Fitzwilliam, only yours," she replied feverishly as he pressed a small kiss to her temple.

* * *

"Close your eyes Lizzy," he instructed, kneeling beside her.

"Sir, I would rather look upon your face."

"Trust me Lizzy, can you not trust your husband?" he asked his voice tense with emotion.

"I would trust him with my life."

"Then show him that you do."

She complied, her eyes flicking shut and her breathing becoming rapid in a way that exertion from one of her long jaunts about the country could never cause. She felt it immediately – the soft caress of his breath upon her cheek as he increased their intimacy, his rough fingertips sliding along her jaw and down the soft column of her neck. Her body instantly tensed beneath his touch, her fingers curling against the comforting fur beneath them. Her muscles tightened as she felt his fingers moving lower, to a place more intimate than any he had touched thus far. Her eyes flicked open in fear as he brushed a soft kiss against her lips and he drew back a little, wondering at her panic.

"What is it Lizzy? You have nothing to fear of me," he told her tucking a tendril of her hair behind her ear.

"I do not fear you Fitzwilliam but I fear discovery. Should we not contain ourselves until our quarters are more private?"

"Does it bring you discomfort to be here with me?"

She shook her head, repeating herself again, "I fear only discovery."

"Lizzy, you may rest assured; the staff here would not disturb us. When a master is with his lady, they know better."

"If you are sure my love, then I have no objection," she murmured as she felt his fingers trailing the lace detailing at her bust.

"I love you most ardently Lizzy, you are sure of this I trust?"

"Yes, yes," she muttered as his lips quickly replaced his hands at the crest of her concealed cleavage.

* * *

"Do you wish that Mrs Bingley had been married before we had taken our vows Lizzy?" He asked after a time, his voice tight with the restraint he was employing.

"Why should I wish such a thing? I am infinitely glad that we were able to share in our mutual joy."

"But would it not have been... beneficial to have had some forewarning about... what you may expect from our wedding night?"

She laughed a little, stifling a gasp as she felt her husband's teeth graze her sensitised skin. "Do you imagine sir that Jane may have provided me with such forewarning? Dear, sweet, delicate and bashful Jane? I am quite sure that any question I may have wished to asked her would have been the greatest source of mortification to my sister. Besides Fitzwilliam, I am not wholly naive."

"You are not?" His interest was piqued and he found his way reluctantly back to her face with questioning eyes.

"I am not," she smiled coyly. "I hope that any divulgences between a husband and his wife remain private Fitzwilliam?" she asked before continuing.

"Naturally."

"Then it may surprise you to learn that your wife did not spend all of her time in her father's library reading from _Fordyce's Sermons,"_ she paused, waiting for a reaction perhaps, it did not come verbally, but she could see it on her husband's face. "I very much enjoy reading novels, scandalous though that might seem. I am familiar with the works of Mr Richardson and Ms. Burney. I know what a wedding night demands of a wife. Am I not my love, much changed in your opinion now?" She asked, fearing the answer more than the quickness of her tongue allowed it to appear.

"Not in the least Lizzy. I am glad that you have some understanding of the relation between a husband and a wife. But I must stress most ardently the works you have mentioned are designed for the purpose of entertainment. They are mere fiction and I would have you know that the hardships suffered by those heroines should not be suffered by Mrs Darcy for her husband intends only to make love to her."

"To make love to me?" she appeared confused "then my mother was right when she suggested that the experiences of Jane and I would quite differ from her own," she sighed heavily, seeming somewhat disappointed.

"How so?" he asked, this time it was Mr Darcy's turn to be confused.

"Well sir, it has been my experience that a man makes love to a woman with words. There is nothing I believe so indicative of his love for her than a sonnet concerning her loveliness," she spoke as if with heavy heart, drawing herself up a little into a sitting position.

He laughed again and this irked her, was she destined to be a source of continual ridicule to him? Was her birth so low that she could not hope to please a man like him? "Oh Lizzy, how delightful you are to me, how much I love you. You are right of course," he told her with a kiss "a man can make love to a woman with poetry, but _you_ know _my _feelings on that subject better than any. I am not speaking of reading you poetry."

"You are not?"

"I am not. I intend to make love to you with my body,_ to_ your body," he insisted.

She could find no response to this suggestion. It had not surprised her, she had after all read those novels, she knew how it was between men and women and of course she understood how children were made. She supposed the gasp which had escaped her only moments after he had uttered those words had to do with the way in which they had been spoken. There was something infinitely exciting about the promise they contained but also something so passionate it was almost threatening.

"Tell me Lizzy, what else did Mrs Bennet have to say on this subject? I should like to know what you are expecting," he told her after he resolved that she could not articulate a reply to his suggestion previous.

"Well... sir, she suggested that we would not often be together after this night but that you should visit me in my quarters when the need of me arose or when the necessity of an heir became vital. She told me that a gentleman does not often lay with his lady as a commoner might."

"Is that what you expected Lizzy?" he seemed pained by her words, she was sorry for them if they had caused offense.

"I do not know what I was expecting, sir."

"Then might I be allowed to speak of how I expected things to be between us?"

"Do my love."

"I am not offended by the words of your mother but I suggest now that if that is her opinion of gentlemanly behaviour, then she would quite despair of mine. She does not know me terribly well, I grant her, but I fear that this generalisation excludes my intention. I have never imagined during our short courtship that upon marriage we would be separated from each other, in fact my thoughts on the subject have been quite to the contrary. You see, these may be the words of a foolish man, but I could not imagine the need of your company in the depths of the night ever becoming thus diminished. I had hoped that you might consider joining me in the marital bed, not simply for one night but for the duration of our life together. If however, it is ceremony you desire then ceremony you shall have," he seemed dejected at this concession and was comforted by the touch of her soft hand against his cheek.

"I would only desire ceremony to please you my love."

"Only your company will please me Lizzy, but I would not want you to feel your reputation compromised, particularly regarding my next request."

"What is your next request?" she asked nervously.

"I would ask you to wait until morning to meet your servants, there are a host of maids you may choose your lady's maid from, but tonight I would ask you to satisfy yourself with only my company."

"You wish me to accompany you to... our quarters unattended?"

"Do you find the idea abhorrent?"

She paused, giving weight to the consideration. "If it pleases you, I will trust you. Although my concern for you adds hindrance to my hearty agreement."

"Why do you worry Lizzy?"

"Well my love, you see I am not familiar with the luxury of the fastenings about my gown, I am quite sure I should be helpless without a maid and I could not expect you to have an understanding of female fashions, this I fear may prohibit your fulfilment of your aim."

"You need not concern yourself Lizzy," he told her; kissing her again "we shall between us find a way I assure you."

"Then I can find no objection to your suggestion my love."

"Do you need more time Lizzy or may I now acquaint you with our private quarters?"

"That would please me Fitzwilliam," she murmured with a blush.

"Excuse me a moment then. I will go directly to the servants' hall and dismiss the staff for the night, this will prevent any further delay to our retirement," he told her, his desperation clear.

"I will eagerly anticipate your return my love," she told him, watching him go.

* * *

**Well there it is, my return to the lovely world of Austen. I hope it was Ok and that you will let me know what you thought. I just wanted there to be the briefest further interlude into their pre-consummation flirtation and I hope you'll forgive me that. I shall try not to leave it quite so long before posting again. As always I appreciate that you have taken the time to read this and all the reviews I have been left. **

**Please forgive any minor editorial mistakes, they are my own and I have tried to get rid of them all. **

**Love, **

_**X~Michelle~X**_


	5. A Wise Woman's Words

**Hello lovely people, **

**I know it's been a while since I update, three months in fact but I have a minute now and I promise this year I will be more committed to this. Thank you all so much for the reviews and support, it means a lot to me that you take the time to let me know what you think. In answer to a question I've had a couple of times – this was intended to end after the Darcys' wedding night but I now have something resembling a longer story planned, so I hope that suits. **

**I probably said this on the previous chapter, but this little chapter came to me over Christmas and will be the last filler chapter before the 'main event' which I am just finalising before I write it down properly, so here's just a little more tension to get you in the mood... **

**My author's note is the same as ever: I DO NOT own _Pride and Prejudice_ or these much beloved characters and all recognisable plots and dialogue will be clearly marked in italics. **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Elizabeth shivered minutely as she waited in the library for the return of her husband. It was not so much any sudden draft which caused this reaction in the young mistress of Pemberley, but rather a culmination of both her nerves and the pleasant warmth of desire she had never before felt. Since she was unfamiliar with the house's innermost layout, she could not tell how long his excursion to the servants' hall would delay Fitzwilliam and she both lamented his absence and yet was grateful for the moment's composure it afforded her.

In desperate need of some employment for fear of becoming quite uncharacteristically hysterical, she retrieved the forgotten volume from its current residence at her feet and returned it to the shelf from whence it came. That having taken far less time than she had hoped, Elizabeth set about the task of straightening her gown, trying not to dwell on her concerns about its intricacy as she waited, growing ever more nervously impatient. Her impatience however was short lived as she noticed the large, ornate brass handle on the door beginning to twist and suddenly, those nerves she had begun to quell coiled deep within her once more and, in an effort to be the dutiful and loving wife, she set her expression in a smile daring not to betray her fears any longer. These were however, fortunately allowed to exist a moment longer as she took note of her company with no small measure of relief.

Mrs Reynolds entered the room, quietly as if she was a woman well practised at making herself as a ghost in the presence of her master and Elizabeth felt her heartbeat return to a somewhat more regular pace in the company of the other woman. By contrast, Mrs Reynolds could not have appeared more uneasy in the presence of her new mistress.

"Oh, madam! Do excuse me! I had thought this room was vacant. I am come to extinguish the fire, the library being as it is, my responsibility," she said, her head lowered with the shame of her interruption.

"Please do not fear me Mrs Reynolds. It is I who have much to learn about Pemberley. I should be glad of instruction from one who has given this great house and its most gracious master so many years service as you. I am but a novice to my husband's preferment and I am deeply envious of one who knows it so well as you," Elizabeth said, sensing she could make an ally in the housekeeper.

"You flatter me greatly madam, but I should not have intruded as I did. When a master is with his lady, the staff should know better than to interrupt. It is the first rule of domestic service. I confess the joys of this day have made me quite forget myself."

"I fear I am quite forgotten also. Who is Miss Lizzy Bennet now? Where is she? I do not know," Elizabeth confessed.

"Madam, if you will permit me to speak on such a subject, it is my experience that one's wedding day forges for us quite a different person than we altogether thought we could be. You are Mrs Darcy of Pemberley and whilst you may be allowed to forget yourself on such a day, I, who should know my place, am not. The fault is mine and I would apologise most profusely for the disturbance I have caused."

"As you can see Mrs Reynolds, my husband is quite abroad from me. No harm can have been caused to me, I assure you by your company and I quite confident that you are not at fault for the relief I gain from it. What has most lately been your employment?"

"I was tending the upper floors madam, most specifically the sitting room which you are to call yours; I hope it will be to your satisfaction."

"I am sure it shall and now I know you are not to blame in any regard Mrs Reynolds, for my husband has mere minutes ago, left this room with the intended destination of the servants' hall. He meant to dismiss the staff for the night," Elizabeth said.

"To dismiss them madam? You do not find yourself in want of your lady's maid, or Mr Darcy his valet?"

Elizabeth paused, taking note of Mrs Reynolds' shock. "Between women Mrs Reynolds, tell me truthfully, do you think it unceremonious that my husband requests only our own company this night? He wishes us to be in attendance only of one another," Elizabeth blushed.

"Madam, I am hardly... I am not of a position to comment on such things!" Mrs Reynolds exclaimed most affronted by this appeal to her femininity, something which had never been ventured in this house. However, upon seeing her mistress' distress her moderate outrage subsided.

"Forgive me Mrs Reynolds. It is only I am a stranger here, I have not a friend in these walls besides my husband Miss Georgiana being abroad and I sorely miss my sisters, most particularly Mrs Bingley who would have been true in her advice on such a matter. I do not want _our _relationship to be one of coldness and command; I would wish to think myself most worthy of your kinship. Cannot you advise me?"

Mrs Reynolds smiled at her mistress, seeing some of the spirit of the inquisitive Miss Bennet of Longbourn she had acquainted with this house short months ago. "Well, madam, I should not perhaps speak so freely with the impending return of the master, but I think his request most ceremonious indeed. What higher ceremony can there be but that which occurs between a husband and his wife? I am quite sure you are most beloved of the master."

"How can you know such a thing?"

"When one has lived in the service of a man from the time he was nursed as I have with the master, one is predisposed to notice certain things in his character. He has all the cool, level-headedness of the old master in affairs of the estate, but in his private associations there was never a man who thought more highly of his sister Miss Georgiana, as I believe you have seen. It seemed these many years, such a great shame to us all that a man of such kindness and tenderness of heart had not a wife to bestow his affections upon. Your arrival here causes a sentimental heart such as mine to remember the conveyance of another such bride as you," she paused looking beyond Elizabeth, perhaps at the ghost of some memory. "Mr Darcy treats you with as much care as the old master treated his lady, Mrs Anne and she was most ardently _adored_ by her husband," Mrs Reynolds told her honestly.

"I regret I could not make the acquaintance of my mother and father in law. My husband has talked so much about them I know it pains him that they are so cruelly and finally absent. He is quite certain I would have revered his father's formidable nature and his mother's kind heart and smiling eyes."

"With you inside Pemberley's walls I am sure they will not seem so long or so absolutely absent. You will be a most respected and loved mistress, madam. I hope you will not long consider yourself without friends among the staff," Mrs Reynolds said.

"I thank you for saying so," Elizabeth smiled.

"I must absent myself now madam. Is there any assistance I may offer you before you retire?"

"Mrs Darcy will find a most diligent and willing servant in me Mrs Reynolds. You may rest easy," Mr Darcy spoke from the doorway, where he had been listening to the conversation between the two women with interest, though quite unnoticed by his wife and their housekeeper.

"Oh Mr Darcy! Forgive me sir, I had come to extinguish the fire, I thought you were retired, I explained to Mrs Darcy..."

Mr Darcy raised his hand in a gesture which prevented her from continuing and was rewarded with the housekeeper's silence. "If you have explained all to Mrs Darcy and she has accepted it, you may trust her authority that your actions are just. I did not see you among the company below stairs but I will tell you now, you are permitted to retire Mrs Reynolds."

"Yes sir, thank you sir," Mrs Reynolds nodded her head before moving towards the door.

"Mrs Reynolds?"

"Yes sir?"

"Is everything in order in our quarters?"

"Quite so sir, I oversaw the work myself sir," Mrs Reynolds replied.

"Then we thank you _and_ your discerning tastes. Good night," Mr Darcy said with a familiar gleam of some long exhausted humour.

"Goodnight sir, madam," the housekeeper said absenting herself from the room and leaving the master and mistress alone.

Several tense seconds passed between the couple who looked upon one another tentatively before Mr Darcy spoke.

"So my Lizzy, you will be pleased I hope, to learn that we have the remainder of the night quite to ourselves."

"I _am_ pleased Fitzwilliam," she said, her eyes sparkling.

"Shall we then inspect Mrs Reynolds' work in our quarters?"

"That sounds most agreeable to your wife my love," she smiled, taking his hand and allowing him to convey her upstairs...

* * *

**So there it is. I hope you enjoyed it; I just wanted to use Mrs Reynolds a little because she was at Pemberley when Elizabeth visited before. I promise the next chapter will see them actually get to the bedroom. Brownie promise! **

**Please excuse any editorial mistakes, they are my own and trust that I will update sooner than I have been known to update in the past! **

**Thanks for reading. **

**Xx**


	6. Passions Ignited

**Hello lovely people, **

**I'd just like to take this opportunity to say a huge thank you to everyone who has favourited, followed and reviewed this story. As I have said on almost every occasion I had only envisaged this to be a short flash in the pan, but it quickly became dear to my heart and I'm so encouraged by the kind words you have written about it. As some of you know, I've been studying for a degree in English Literature which is why this has (shockingly) not been updated for more than two months now, I apologise for this. The plus side is that I have been studying the original Miss Austen so I haven't been entirely diverging from my commitment to this story. I do believe there was a certain chapter you were all waiting for which I intend to write for you know. Greatest effort has gone into making this seem authentic, but you may find that there are some minor discrepancies since this is the first time I have attempted to write a Regency love scene. **

**I intend to continue this beyond this chapter, if you all want it. I've thought of the way to end this story and I hope you will like it. **

**My author's note is the same as ever: I DO NOT own Pride and Prejudice, its characters or plots, all recognisable dialogue will be clearly marked in italics and credit must be given to the wonderful Miss Austen! **

**Do enjoy!**

* * *

Elizabeth gripped her husband's arm just a little too tightly as they began to ascend to the upper floors of the grand house. On her visits previous, she had not given much thought to what they contained, being as she was, far too concerned with the aesthetic beauty of Pemberley's grounds and structure, but now on the arm of its master, she was consumed by the knowledge that those mysterious upper floors were the place for her private life with the man she loved. She was filled with a simultaneous burst of joy and fear. What would private life with this man mean? What did this wedding night demand of her? Of course, as she had proudly told Fitzwilliam, she was not as wholly naive as he may first have thought her, but she feared above all things, inadequacy. This feeling extended far beyond the humiliation she had felt at the attention seeking behaviour of Mary, or the disgraceful elopement of Lydia, it had to do with more even, than the vulgarity of her mother's public and private behaviour. Elizabeth Bennet of Longbourn could quite hold the interest of her new husband in a war of words, she was, if she said so herself, a skilled orator and could articulate herself with wit and enthusiasm, but as a wife and a lover, she had no experience. Her cheeks flamed as Fitzwilliam led her up staircase after staircase as she thought about his comments on the fictions she had admitted to having read. _The sufferings of those heroines will not be felt by Mrs Darcy. _She could only wonder what Mrs Darcy would feel on this occasion, she could only blush as she hoped she would fulfil his expectations.

They walked along a corridor in the Western wing of the house, the quarters she knew she and her husband would occupy. His hand never left her own, which still clung to his forearm as if he was the only thing grounding her to the moment. Before he opened the door at which they had stopped, he turned to her, sweeping a stray tendril of her unruly hair from her forehead and kissing the place where it had been. "My Lizzy, you are quite aware, are you not, of what will happen between us?" he said, his question all concern for her.

"My mother and Aunt have done their best to prepare me, yes," she murmured, her blush deepening.

"Then you know that a man's love can be quite..." he paused, searching for the correct articulation.

She saved him the embarrassment with a small kiss. "Any pain I must suffer sir, I would suffer gladly for your love," she said.

"I would not hurt you if it could be helped Lizzy," he said.

"I wish Fitzwilliam, that my intentions had always been so honourable that I may same the same to you," she replied, her head lowered in shame. "I fear my unchecked wit has caused you much mortification and pain," she said.

"Lizzy, I trust as should you, that our union in this marriage quite absolves us our sins against one another."

"I am glad," she smiled as he reached for the handle of the door.

* * *

Elizabeth was quite silenced as she followed her husband into their marital bedchamber. Everything spoke of sumptuous luxury she could hardly comprehend. The Bennets of Longbourn were hardly the poorest of their community – much as their behaviour might suggest the contrary- but their father's liberal attitude towards their finances meant that they did not benefit from such luxury as she found herself bearing witness to here. The furnishings were quietly regal and the fabrics silently rich. The bed, which it thrilled her to know she would share with her husband, occupied the largest part of the room and was adorned with fine bedclothes the like of which she had never owned. She would be perfectly happy here, she knew.

"Does it please you, my love?"

"Infinitely, Fitzwilliam," she said going to the large window at the foot of the room and surveying the grounds which she must now call her own.

He watched her from their current distance, his eyes following the exquisite lines of her body as she moved, attempting to drink in everything which Pemberley had to offer her. This short separation alone was enough to make his body ache for her and as he began to walk towards her, he shed his jacket, the white shirt he wore beneath it stretching over his firm torso.

"Are you happy here?" he asked, his voice alarmingly closer than she had thought.

"I am, my love. I am in the company of the man I love and I am privy to the finest view of Pemberley there ever was," she said, her eyes meeting his in the dark reflection of the window.

"On the contrary my dear, I believe it is I who has the privilege of the finest view of Pemberley. Here, now – and that view is my beautiful new wife," he told her, his strong arms encircling her waist and drawing him closer to her than he had yet been.

She felt it almost immediately and was unable to contain the gasp which escaped her at that very moment, "Fitzwilliam," she muttered as her head lolled back towards his shoulder and she began to grow accustomed to the hardness of his very maleness.

"Do not be afraid Elizabeth, it is simply the way my body expresses my love for you," he said.

"I am not afraid Fitzwilliam," he said, allowing her body to relax against his.

"My beautiful wife," he muttered as he began to kiss her jaw, moving down the column of her elegant neck. "I love you, most ardently," he told her as he began to manipulate her, encouraging her to face him.

When she looked upon his face, his eyes were darker than she had yet seen them, his pupils so black she could not hold his gaze for long before she was forced to avert her own brimming eyes. The love he so clearly felt shone inescapably from his face and she was momentarily overwhelmed by it, until after a time, she pushed herself onto her tiptoes and pressed a slow, lingering kiss to her husband's tense mouth. "I love you too Fitzwilliam, it is almost painful to me to love you this much," she admitted, delighting in the ability to say the words aloud. Here in this place, they were without chaperone or judges and could talk as they pleased.

"Then it is a pain we must share, my love," he told her, tracing his fingers along the delicate jut of her jaw and upwards, towards her temples and finally allowing himself to slide his hands into her hair.

Her chest heaved as she stood opposite him- waiting, longing. She was desperate for his touch, although she hardly knew how incredible it would be and yet, she appreciated the slow pace he had established. In the library, mere minutes ago, she had experienced his desperation, his frenzied loss of control and now he was behaving towards her with the upmost restraint. As his fingers began unfurling the many pins which held her hair in a style her mother had insisted would be most attractive to her husband, she allowed her arms to rise from their stationary position at her sides and placed her palms against the soft muslin of his shirt. She felt his breath tighten in his expansive chest and had she not been so thrilled at his reaction, she almost certainly would have recoiled, but she would not let her girlish fears best her in this moment and so let the soft skin of her hands acquaint themselves with the sinews of her husband's upper body.

She felt an incredible sense of liberation as curl by curl, he worked her hair loose and she felt it tumble onto her shoulders. As she dared to allow her hands to venture towards the fastenings of his shirt that she may expose the dark whorls of hairs which showed themselves vaguely through the thin fabric, she felt him pull on her hair, raking his hands through it, using it as leverage for his own manipulation of her. She was rendered powerless before him as he caused her head to be thrown back and he savagely placed erratic kisses to the exposure of her throat. Whilst her upper body was exasperatingly forced away from him, she found after those initial seconds, that this new position caused their hips to collide and once again she felt the undeniable and thrilling threat of his love. His lips ghosted lowered, skimming the detailing of her gown again and she heard an unwittingly satisfied sigh escaping her and she tried to hide her reaction. It was not ladylike behaviour to indulge herself this way and yet she could not help herself, his touch made her forget herself. She reached for his shoulders, trying to steady herself and after a few seconds more, he returned her to an upright position and pressed another kiss to her slackened mouth as her shaking fingers tried to unfasten his shirt. She found herself unable to concentrate, only able to think about how much she longed for his touch again.

"Ssh, Ssh Lizzy, there is no hurry," he told her, trying to soothe her evident frustration at being incapacitated in this way.

"I only wish to be a good wife to you," she said relaxing her hand on his chest.

"You are," he laughed and watched her face twist into that delightfully irritated expression she had cultivated so well "Lizzy you are," he said covering her hands with his and guiding her as together, they unfastened his shirt. He shrugged it off and she was unsure where to look. She averted her gaze, staring over his shoulder.

"You may look Lizzy; it is your right as my wife to know my body."

"I am sorry I am behaving this way. It is only that I have known you so lately and have only ever been in the company of others around you that I do not know what is appropriate, what you want of me."

"I only want you to be at your ease my love, I am your husband and I want only to know that you are happy."

She placed her hand upon his cheek, allowing her eyes to flick down his body as she searched his eyes for the truth in his words. "You are most handsome, Fitzwilliam." He was quiet and for a moment she thought he had retreated to that place deep inside himself, a place he went to when he was lost in thought, but then he moved his hands to her hips and she felt at her ease.

* * *

"I need you, Elizabeth," he told her frankly.

She let the words wash over her for a moment as she slid her hand to his heart.

"Can you not feel my nervous anticipation?" he asked as she felt the beat of his heart against her fingers.

"You need not be nervous Fitzwilliam, I am yours and willingly so. You must take of me what you need. Give me your love and I shall treasure it above all things," she said, tensing a little as his hands encircled her back.

"Turn around Elizabeth," he said watching her attentively as she revolved for him.

His hand ghosted her across her stomach and moved lower, resting just above the place which was increasingly burning for him. With his free hand, he began to attend to the laces at the back of her gown. He tried to concentrate but her slight form was so responsive to his every touch that it made the task incredibly difficult. A further complication was presented to him by the foreign fastenings on her gown. Secretly, he began to think that perhaps she had been right. He was unused to the height of female fashions and he lamented dismissing the maids for the night, but he could not let his new wife discover his ineptitude, particularly as she was waiting expectantly to become his true wife.

"Who was tasked with securing these fastenings?" he growled, his lips grazing the space beneath her ear.

"My maid. I am sorry. This gown was not my choice, I would have gladly had something in a more simple style, but my mother would not allow it. She wanted us to appear to our best advantage..."

"...and you do, but your poor husband is suffering for how beautiful you look," he said.

"What should we do? Should we not request a maid?"

"I will not be defeated," he told her moving away from her and going to the small writing table in the corner. "Besides, I have a solution."

She watched him making his way back across the room towards her, carrying something in his hand. A slight tremor of excited fear ran through her as she noted his expression. "Do you trust me?" he asked, flicking the blade from its enamel case.

She shivered involuntarily. "Yes," she said.

He raised the blade to the laces and she flinched. "Forgive me Fitzwilliam but when you mentioned pain, I did not imagine that..."

He stopped her words with a kiss. "Lizzy, I am not going to cut you. Trust me."

She held her breath, waiting. "Fitzwilliam, does it not seem like an awful waste... to ruin a gown so beautiful?"

"Well my Lizzy, I would hope that you never have occasion to wear it again," he said, kissing her from behind again.

"You are my first and only husband Fitzwilliam and I only wish to be your wife," she said pressing her body against his. "I am yours," she said again.

"I am glad," he told her and with one swift motion, he cut the laces on her gown.

Once the fastenings had been severed, the gown had nothing to support it and fell from Elizabeth's body leaving her in only her undergarments and mercilessly under his ever darkening gaze. She instinctively raised her arms to shield herself but he pushed them away. "Fitzwilliam, I..."

"You are beautiful," he said. He took her hand and led her towards the bed.

* * *

She slipped her feet out of the new shoes she had been gifted with for the wedding and her stocking-clad feet meet with the plush rug which adorned the floor. She said nothing as he sat on the edge of the bed and guided her into the space between his legs. He reached up for the laces on the back of her softly boned corset. "May I?" he asked tugging lightly on one of them.

"Fitzwilliam, my dearest love, you are my husband. I surrender my body to you willingly; I _want_ to feel your touch."

"Lizzy, I would never use force; you know that by now do you not?"

"You would not hurt me, my love. I know that," she said, reaching behind herself she felt her way to his hands and pushed them aside so that she could unfasten her laces herself. "There," she said feeling the relief of the loosening of the undergarment.

It did not take him long to take over, alternating between loosening the laces and pulling the corset away from her body. Her eyes never left his as he continued to undress her and from the angle she currently found herself in, she was witness to the torment he experienced as he tried to decide whether he should maintain contact with her eyes or let himself roam her thinly veiled body. She smiled, knowing that she had power over her strong, proud husband even with her inexperience.

"Forgive me Lizzy, but I believe you were quite mistaken," he said, discarding the corset and pulling her closer still.

"In what regard?" she asked, sliding her hands into his hair and hearing his appreciation.

"Well my love, I do not believe I have had the pleasure of viewing your figure to its best advantage, until this moment. Like this," he told her allowing his hands to skim the thin veil of her chemise.

"Then I am glad to offer you such spectatorship," she managed, quickly losing concentration as he sculpted the slight curves of her female form. She knew, with some regret, that she was not nearly so womanly as her dear sister Jane. This was a fact the reminder of which had afforded Mrs Bennet many hours of pleasure. Lizzy could take grievance the displeasure this might cause her husband, but she could not regret her free spirit, which required her to be often out of doors. Her long rambles in the countryside were responsible for the unwomanly slenderness of her frame, but nothing gave her greater joy than to walk about the fields and lanes, nothing eased her mind quite so well and, judging by the way he had begun to caress her stomach and move further upwards with his lips, her new husband could have no complaints in this regard.

His hands had swiftly followed the path of his lips and in a matter of seconds; he had initiated the most intimate of his touches. His slightly rough fingertips caressed her breast through the chemise she still wore, sending shivers of pleasure down her spine. After a short time, he was guiding her down towards him and his mouth was drawing her in and she began to feel her flaming flesh rising to meet his hot mouth, quite desperately. She tried to grip his shoulder for support, but she was fast losing the ability to stand, her knees shook in a way she had never experienced until they buckled and she momentarily took leave of her senses.

* * *

When she was quite recovered, she found much to her surprise that their positions had been reversed. She was at the foot of the bed, her legs quite suspended over the edge and her husband was kneeling before here, watching her in perfect rapture. His hands were at her hips and his fingers caused the sensitive skin there to throb maddeningly with every touch. "You are mesmerising, my Lizzy," he said. He had already detached her stockings from the garter which held them in place and now worked to unfasten the offending item. "I have always been fascinated with the female insistence on so many undergarments," he seemed to speak more to himself than to her as he lifted her hips and pulled the belt from her, another of her mother's purchases for her. Elizabeth was not disinterested in the society of London, in fact she found it quite enthralling, but she had never avidly followed the fashions of the women there as Lydia and Kitty did and so shared her husband's curiosity for quite so many trappings, which her mother had quite insisted upon. "Is it your intention to deter me quite so permanently from my true purpose?"

She struggled to find her voice although she knew he required an answer. "What is your true purpose Fitzwilliam?" her voice sounded unrecognisable, even to her.

"I intend to love you most completely Elizabeth," he said, his voice low and dangerous.

She blushed violently, avoiding the eyes which bored into hers. "I could never prohibit such an honourable purpose my love," she replied concentrating on the feeling of her stocking sliding down her leg. Its twin quickly followed and she felt yet more exposed to his shameless gaze.

"You are exquisite," he muttered, leaning forward so that his lips might meet with the newly exposed skin of her long, pale limbs.

She was unable to suppress the gasp which surprised her upon the connection of his lips to her calf, but she quickly learned not to disguise her feelings. She could not. His mouth blazed a trail across her skin and he did not stop, higher and higher he kissed, grazing the inside of her knee and further. His tongue flicked out to taste her inner thigh and he did not hesitate when his lips met with the comparatively coarse material of her chemise. He slid his hands up to the hem and began to inch it up, little by little exposing her most secret self to him. She blushed a most endearing shade of crimson and threw her head to the side, unable to look at him whilst his eyes roamed her innocence. The air hummed with tension for several long seconds and she began to wonder if something she had done had offended him and was therefore caught off guard by his next action which caused her to cry out in unbridled pleasure.

Never had she known such a sensation, never would she forget it. The feel of his hot, mouth and probing tongue pressed to her inner self was like nothing she had ever imagined and her inexperienced body writhed with delight at the contact. He kissed her, drawing out her love for him and giving his back to her. She felt a tight, uncomfortable knot building in her stomach as he continued to tease her, until she could barely articulate a rational thought and suddenly like rolling thunder, its power was released over her body and she could only surrender to the oblivion which summoned her.

When she roused, he was staring at her, his fingers entangling themselves in her dark, intimate curls. "Darling Lizzy," he said looking at her most adoringly as he allowed his finger to push inside of her.

"Oh!" she cried as she felt him curl inside of her and her body reacted to him instinctively. He quickly added another, widening and releasing her and she wondered how anything this beautiful could ever cause her pain.

* * *

"Lizzy," he growled moments later, rocking back onto his haunches "I must have you. I must," his desperation almost brought her to tears and she shifted back a little, moving to the centre of their large marital bed.

"Yes," she sighed because even her innocence could imagine nothing more perfect than their union, "yes. Please Fitzwilliam, please," she begged, her eyes never leaving his as she watched him shed his boots.

He motioned silently to her rumpled chemise and she instantly fisted her hand at one of the straps, knowing what she must do. "Please Lizzy," he said "take it off," he told her, his own hands moving to the fastenings of his breeches.

She tried to concentrate on her own task, grabbing at the already bunched hem at her waist, but she found herself hesitating as she realised that in her removal of the chemise, she would be unable to watch him as he divested himself of the last barrier to their love. She did as he bid, ever the obedient wife and was pleased to find that she was still able to watch his breeches being dragged down his strong thighs. When he straightened himself, she was overwhelmed by the sight of him. The muscular sinews of his body and his proud, proud love for her. The realisation of it was both humbling and threatening to his inexperienced wife and she gasped again, in shock.

"Do not be alarmed Lizzy," he told her as he knelt on the foot of the bed and made his way towards her. "You have done this, it is for you," he murmured allowing himself to settle in the arc of her already welcoming limbs. "You are the mistress of me," he sighed, kissing her passionately.

"You are... magnificent," she told him shyly, her hands exploring his body.

"Lizzy," he said, his voice strained "I must be united with you, now."

"I am ready."

"I will be gentle," he promised.

"You _are _gentle my love," she said, her eyes expressing her love.

The moment it happened, Elizabeth was filled with raging, painful fire. Tears welled in her eyes and she was forced to avert her eyes. He was still above her, waiting patiently but painful seconds passed and she did not think it would end. He bent to kiss her again, silent assurance that she would survive this agony and slowly, she felt her body relax. White hot remnants of that pain remained for mere seconds more and then suddenly, she was overcome by a new sensation – the pure desire to love him, to be made love to.

"Raise your hips to mine Lizzy, it will help," he soothed and as she followed his instruction, she felt her body accommodate her loving husband.

They did not last long. He had been alone for many years and his release came swiftly. She did not yet know the pleasure of restraint and so succumbed when her body dictated, drifting in a strange place of his creation. She was unsure of what would happen next. Every minute that he stayed she expected to be his last. She did not believe that he truly meant to honour his earlier words now that she had been made his, but as if in answer, he pulled her to him, allowing her to rest her head against the firmness of his chest.

* * *

"Well Lizzy," he said kissing her forehead "I have found my haven in you," his tone spoke of untold pain and she wondered at the torment she heard in his voice.

"I am glad to be your haven Fitzwilliam," she told him, kissing him.

They laid in contented silence for a while before he spoke again. "You are quite well Lizzy?"

"Perfectly so. Now I quite feel I am the mistress of Pemberley," she said.

"As you rightly should Mrs Darcy," he told her, rolling her swiftly beneath him again, the virile passions of Pemberley's master once again becoming ignited...

* * *

**Well, there it is. I know you've waited a long time for this; I just hope that the wait was worth it. Do let me know what you thought and as I said, if you'd like me to go beyond their wedding night. I hope you're still enjoying this. **

**Please excuse all minor editorial mistakes they are my own and I have tried my best to get rid of them all. **

**Thank you for reading, **

**Xx **


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